


Simon Spiers Guide to Dealing with Your Angry Boyfriend.

by BRR77872



Category: Love Simon (2018), Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Bram punches Martin in the face basically, M/M, Slightly suggestive?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-19 03:23:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14865674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BRR77872/pseuds/BRR77872
Summary: Rule One: Don’t even realize he’s angry at first because you’re oblivious.Rule 2: Realize that he’s angry, try not to get aroused by it.Rule Three: Build sexual tension after watching the boy your boyfriend has pointed his anger at shit himself in fear and try not to die from embarrassment when your friends notice.Rule Four: Jump his bones at a party after a fight because you have no self control.





	Simon Spiers Guide to Dealing with Your Angry Boyfriend.

Rule One: **Don’t even realize he’s angry at first because you’re oblivious.**  
  
The thing about Bram, my wonderful boyfriend Bram, is that he’s not really an angry person, I always found that oddly endearing, and I always considered it a good thing. I mean, when was anger ever a good trait? Besides, he has so many other amazing qualities that I never really think about it. For one, he’s so smart that it’s kind of sexy. I mean, seriously, he could talk in nothing but geometry terms to me and I’d melt in his hands. He’s a giant literature nerd, he’s kind, comforting, and considerate with just enough mischievousness to balance everything out. He has no problems communicating with me, so anytime he _is_ angry or sad or anything in between we can have a solid conversation about it without anything getting out of hand. Bram is an excellent communicator and it probably stems from the fact that he’s a planner. Even when his mischievous side comes out he’s never impulsive, he’s always weighing the options and making a logical decision before jumping into any situation. Which is why, when it all happens, I’m really surprised but also strangely aroused.  
  
We’re at my locker just before first period. Brams leaning up against the locker next to mine as I search for my wallet that I’m sure I left on the top shelf and I’m rambling and kind of panicking but Bram is just smiling at me. It leaves a warm feeling in my chest next to the rising panic.  
  
“Simon.” Bram says, interrupting my rambling, his voice cutting through the fogginess in my head like a crisp breeze. I look up at him and he catches my hand, bringing it up to his face and kissing my fingertips. My face goes cherry red. He does stuff like that a lot, and I’m definitely not complaining, I just don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. It’s nice, being able to touch him even if we can’t be gross and make out in the hallway like every straight couple here. And, it’s not like we would actually do it, even if we could, but it would’ve been nice to have the option.  
  
“Breathe.” He says and his voice is so calm that I could just melt. His big brown eyes are twinkling with amusement.   
  
“Just take a moment to think about where you put it last.” He says in a quiet voice that makes my heart flutter. The way he talks sometimes makes it seem like it’s just for me, that we’re in our own little world and I’m the only one meant to hear the sound of his voice. It’s intoxicating, really. He drops my hand but never fully moves away. Our knuckles brush slightly.  
  
I take a deep breath and close my eyes, doing as Bram had suggested. I try to think about where I might’ve left it last, I really do, but the only thing I can focus on is the warmth of Brams hand and the fact that he’s so close I could just reach out and twine our fingers together. I don’t, because even something as innocent as holding hands will get us weird looks and I’m not prepared to deal with that this morning. Instead I concentrate. We haven’t been at school that long, first period just ended and I had it with me in my car. That could only mean-  
  
“Spier!” My eyes snap up and I lift my head. Bram steps back, popping the little bubble we’re in. The chaos of the hallways begins to rush around me once again. Martin Addison is there, pushing his way through the crowd with this unreadable expression on his face. It makes me a little uneasy. He comes to stand in front of me and Bram, looking proud of himself as he holds out his hand. Sitting in his palm is my wallet.  
  
“You left this in English.” He says. And I stare at him because I haven’t spoken to Martin since the whole incident last year. We share English class this year, again, but I haven’t spoken one word to him. Why would I when Leah, Abby, Nick and Bram are in that class, too? Next to me Bram has gone stiff and when I glance briefly at his face I’m surprised to see that it’s gone completely blank. I don’t have time to dwell because Martin is waiting expectantly so I pluck my wallet from his outstretched hand and pocket it.  
  
“Thanks.” I mumble, and there’s this weird tension filling the air. It’s coming from Bram, I realize, but his face isn’t giving anything away. He’s just... staring. I think I might see his jaw flex but it’s so fast I’m not sure if it actually happened or if it was just my overactive imagination. Martin seems to pick up on the tension, too, because he’s just awkwardly standing in front of us now, picking at the hem of his shirt.  
  
“So..uh...” Martin stumbles over his words and for the first time since he showed up Brams face changes. He lifts his eyebrows in that adorable way he does whenever he’s curious, only this time it looks almost it sarcastic.   
  
“Was there something else you needed?” Bram asks and I can’t exactly place the emotion in his voice but it doesn’t sound positive. Martin’s entire face goes stark red. So does mine, but for a completely different reason, I’m sure.  
  
“Nope!” Martin says quickly, his voice going up an octave. “I’ll see you tomorrow!” He finishes, except it comes out like ‘illseeyoutomorrow’ because he’s so nervous. I don’t even get a chance to respond before he’s hightailing it down the hallway.  
  
I turn to look at Bram, to ask him what the hell just happened, but that blank mask is gone from his face and he’s staring at me with so much warmth and affection that it makes my knees weak. He gives me a smile and reaches out to grab my hand, squeezing it gently.  
  
“I’ll see you at lunch, okay?” He says with a close lipped smile. I nod, my skin feeling like it’s burning from where he’s touching me, and I give him a smile back. He parts with a quick kiss to my forehead, like he can’t help himself, and by now I can admit that the itch under my skin definitely means I’m turned on, but honestly I can’t even put my finger on why. Instead of dealing with it I push down the growing warmth beneath my skin because nothing would be worse than popping a boner in the middle of the school day.  
(I end up having to go to the bathroom to calm myself down.)  
  
Rule 2: **Realize that he’s angry, try not to get aroused by it.**   
  
The second time it happens we’re in the auditorium just after drama club practice comes to an end. On Tuesdays and Thursdays our schedules line up and I can drive him to school and back home after practice ends. Days like these quickly become a favorite of mine. I can almost feel Abby rolling her eyes as I skip down the stage steps to go and meet him halfway up the aisle. He’s got this soft grin on his lips and he looks particularly delicious in his Adidas joggers and grey sweatshirt. He only wears stuff like that after he’s done with practice and I think if he knew how much I liked it he’d tease me about it forever.   
  
I’m excited to see him, and I’m excited to see him everyday, but now more so than usual. It’s probably because we agreed to go to the Waffle House before I drop him off at home. The concept of a waffle date is always something I’ve been obsessed with so the fact that I get to live out the fantasy gets my blood pumping; and the fact that I get to live it out with _Bram_ makes me want to sprint down the aisle so I can get to him faster.   
  
Before I can consider how pathetic I’d look if I really did start running I feel a tap on my shoulder and hear a call of my name. I know that voice. I stop walking, give Bram a quick apologetic smile, and turn around to face Martin Addison  
  


“Hey, uh,” he stumbles, looking a little nervous. His eyes keep flickering to look over my shoulder. I wait patiently for him to continue.   
  
“I figured we’d need to set up a time to run lines together.” He says, focusing his attention back on me. I nod my head because yeah, we do, and even though I’d be happier if Martin Addison never talked to me again I come to the conclusion that his request is necessary if we actually want to put on a good production.   
  
“Yeah, okay.” I say, because what else am supposed to say to that? “I’ll text you what times are good for me and we can set something up from there.”   
  
He nods his head, looking slightly more comfortable. “Coolio,” He says, and I have to suppress a laugh because really? Coolio? Bram would have a fit, that’s not even a word.    
  
“You need my number, right?”   
  
And at that I just stare at him because that was such a stupid question. It makes me want to punch him square in his stupid face because yeah, I have his number. He practically shoved it down my throat last year.    
  
So, because I’m petty, I say, “No, I still have it from last year.”    
  
At that Martin sputters, his face turning a light shade of pink.    
  
“Oh, right, um, I forgot about that-“ He starts. I lift an eyebrow.   
  
“Really? I haven’t forgotten about it.” I say, and this conversation is quickly making me simultaneously pissed off and uncomfortable.   
  
“I didn’t mean it like that!” Martin says quickly, his eyes going wide, “I just meant that I forgot I gave you my number and I don’t know, maybe you deleted it after... well, after everything happened. And I totally still remember all of that! Not like, in a good way obviously, but like I remember what happened-“    
  
And because Bram has impeccable timing I feel a hand slipping around my waist, his chest pushing up against my back. I tilt my head back to look at him and his face is in that blank mask again, staring right at Martin Addison who shut his mouth with an audible click as soon as Bram showed up. It’s here that I realize what this is all about. Martin is  _ afraid _ of Bram and anytime Bram sees Martin he gets pissed. That weird blank expression he wears is the face he makes when he’s angry.   
  
“Is there an issue?” Bram asks, his voice scarily calm. And I resist the urge to bite my lip because it’s  _ hot _ . I try to remind myself that this is not the place or the time to get hot and bothered over something like this but my brain is having a  _ field day _ with this newfound information. It doesn’t help that since I’m this close I can actually  _ see _ his jaw flex this time and know that it’s not my imagination.     
  
Martin shakes his head in a hurried motion and I get this weird feeling of satisfaction from knowing that he’s scared. Maybe that makes me a bad person, but I’m not going to dwell on it too much because I figure it’s not that bad considering the fact that he made my life a living hell for a little over a year.    
  
Brams eyes turn from Martin down to me, the expression on his face melting right off as we lock eyes. He smiles at me and we’re in our own little world again. All I can think about is how much I want to kiss him.    
  
“You ready to go?” He asks and his voice is so soft I could just swoon. I guess I don’t answer fast enough because an amused grin forms on his lips.   
  
“Come on, Simon, those chocolate chip pancakes are calling my name.” He jokes. His arm slips from around my waist and he grabs my hand instead. We turn and without another word to Martin make our way out into the parking lot after Bram grabs his soccer bag.   
  
“Why are we going to the Waffle House if you’re just going to get pancakes?” I ask as we climb into the car. Bram pulls on his seatbelt and shoots me a look.   
  
“Because pancakes are the superior breakfast food.” He says simply. I gasp and whip around to look at him.   
  
“Abraham Greenfeld you did not just say that.” I say with wide, betrayed eyes. Brams gets that mischievous little smirk on his lips and he shrugs his shoulders.   
  
“But I did. I’m not taking it back, either.”   
  
We spend the rest of the evening debating the pros and cons of Waffles and Pancakes.    
  


(Bram wins, but I’ll never tell him that.)   
  
Rule Three:  **Build sexual tension after watching the boy your boyfriend has pointed his anger at shit himself in fear and try not to die from embarrassment when your friends notice.**

  
The third time it happens I notice immediately because I’m a weak gay with zero priorities, apparently. We’re in the cafeteria debating the importance of having a TV in the car. Me, Bram and Leah are all on the ‘no’ side and Abby, Garrett and Nick are all on the ‘pro’ side. Leah’s in the middle of making a good point about how it takes your focus away from bonding with the people you’re being forced to ride with. 

 

“If you’re on a road trip isn’t the whole point to talk to the people you’re riding with? I’m the first advocate for no social interaction, really, but the whole point of long car rides is to spend time with the people around you. It’s not about the destination, it's about the journey.” Leah says. Bram fist bumps her from across the table. They’ve become really good friends and honestly it’s kind of the best thing in the world.

 

Abby shakes her head, waving her soggy fry at us. “You make a great point, but what happens when there’s literally nothing to do? What, you’re just going to sit there in silence? A TV would offer a option when all the excitement starts to die down.” She says, looking proud of herself. And honestly, I can see where she’s coming from, but I don’t necessarily thinks she’s right.

 

“Yeah, but when the excitement starts to die down is when all the interesting stuff starts happening.” I add in, “That’s when people start getting creative and go off to do crazy stuff, that’s when you get to know people better. It just creates this atmosphere of vulnerability that makes everyone want to participate in some way shape or form. When, in any corny teenage movie you’ve seen, does the characters getting to know each other on a deep level happen in an exciting scene? Never! That’s the beauty of quiet, we just feel inclined to share ourselves with others.” I say, stealing a tater tot off of Bram’s tray. Leah looks at me like I’m a foreign object.

 

“Bram,” She says, turning to look at him, “What have you done with my Simon? Where are you hiding him?” She asks. Bram just laughs.

 

“No, but seriously, if you keep it up you might be worse than Nick with all this deep philosophical stuff.” Abby says.

 

“Hey!” Nick protest, a good natured pout on his lips. “I can out deep Simon any day!”

 

Garrett raises an eyebrow. “That sounded kind of gay, man, you trying to tell us something?” Bram piggybacks on Garrett’s joke, popping a tater tot in his mouth.

 

“From a gay person's perspective I can confirm: that was a very gay thing to say, Nick.” Bram jokes. The table breaks into a fit of laughter and looking around at everyone I can say that I’m genuinely happy. This is what I’ve always wanted, this is what I craved before. I can be myself unapologetically, Bram can make jokes about being gay without getting weird looks for it. In this moment, everything is perfect.

 

Well, it is, until Martin shows up.

 

He pulls up a chair to the edge of our table after Bram and I bring up the whole pancakes versus waffles debate we had last week. The table is thrown into complete chaos at this point so no one really notices, we’re all too busy trying to prove our point. We don’t notice him until he talks.

“I have to agree with Nick and Simon on this one, guys, Waffles are so much better. They’ve got this crunch to them that pancakes lack.” He says, and as soon as he talks my eyes flicker over to look at Bram. He seems taken aback, but the look is quickly replaced by the now familiar blank mask settling over his face. He knows about everything Martin did. At one point I sat down and told him the entire story, and everyone at the table pretty much knows the whole story, too, so none of us are particularly fond of Martin. He just doesn’t seem to get it. Martin may be a decent guy, and maybe under different circumstances we could’ve been friends, but he forced me out of the closet, he took my decision away from me, and because of that I want literally nothing to do with him. Coming out was supposed to be  _ my _ thing, and he stole it. I’m not ready to forgive him for that. 

 

But because Martin can’t just settle for being included in our little game (Nick had looked at him weirdly after he spoke but piggybacked off of his argument because none of us are cruel enough to actually tell Martin to go away) he turns to look at me with this weird expression on his face. It takes me a moment, but eventually I realize that the look is guilt. 

 

“Simon,” He says in a voice that I’m sure is supposed to resemble a whisper, “Can I talk to you after school? In private?” He asks. I’m quiet because I really don’t know what to say to that. I don’t want to meet up with Martin alone after school to hear the bullshit apology he’s got planned. So instead, because everyone at this table has made me somewhat bold in the last year, I shake my head.

 

“No, whatever you want to say you can say here. Now.” I say firmily. Bram squeezes my hand lightly and I feel anchored. He’s my rock, I can always count on him to keep me grounded. Martin looks somewhat nervous, his eyes flickering around the table and taking everyone in. His eyes flicker to to Bram and I can see the bob of his adam's apple as he swallows. It would almost be funny if it weren’t for the fact that I’m also weirdly nervous to hear what he has to say.

 

“I just never got to really… apologize for what happened last year.” Martin says and he has to the decency to not look me in the eyes as this bullshit sprouts from his mouth. “I’m just… I’m sorry it got so out of hand. That wasn't my place and I was going through a really rough time.”

 

“So you’re sorry it got out of hand, not that you blackmailed me and then outed me to the entire school?” I ask slowly, and I want to make a comment about how it really means nothing to me that he was going through a rough time because my entire life was basically falling apart because of him, but I don’t. I’m not that petty and there’s already enough tension rising in the air.

 

Martin sputters, his face slowly turning red. “It wasn’t like that,” He protest, “I didn’t mean to blackmail you, well, at least I didn’t  _ think  _ I was blackmailing you. I just thought we were on the same page, that we could help eachother out.” And this conversation is over because whats the use of an apology if he’s not even admitting to what he did? I guess Bram can sense how my mood shifts, it’s crazy how well he knows me, because he gives my had one more soft squeeze and I don’t look at him but I can tell he’s looking at Martin from the way said boy looks like he’s ready to shit himself.

 

“I think it would be best if you left.” Bram says in that calm way like he’s trying to keep himself from doing something rash. I squeeze his hand to offer my support like he had done with me. He squeezes back. Martin looks scared and almost panicked.

 

“No, please, hear me out.” He begs. Leah scoffs, flicking a piece of hair out of her face.

 

“Yeah, no thanks.” She says, “Your time has expired. Please exit stage left.”

 

Martin ignores her and turns to look back at me, his eyes pleading, “Please, Simon, I really didn’t mean to out you to the school, that was my bad and I’m sorry I-” 

 

I really don’t even know what to say but apparently Bram does. When I look at him he’s got his lips pressed in a thin line and his blank mask is breaking to reveal the barely contained anger brewing underneath. 

 

“It was ‘your bad’?” He asks and his voice is dangerously low. I bite my lip in a vain attempt to get the heat pooling into my groin under control. Now is really not the time to spot a boner. 

 

“You come over here to apologize and for starters you can’t even admit that you were blackmailing Simon, and then you can’t properly apologize. It’s just ‘your bad’, like outing him was really no big deal.” Bram says. Martin shrinks back into his seat as Bram leans forward across the table, his brown eyes burning. I think I might have a heart attack. I don’t ever want to be on the receiving end of that look because it’s just really occurring to me that Bram is fucking _ scary _ like this, but mostly just because I’m sure my risolve would crumble in zero point two seconds because its just so  _ hot _ . 

 

“You really should go.” Garrett says. He’s the only one of us that isn’t stiff. He doesn’t even look at Martin as he says it, just scoops another spoonful of pudding into his mouth like he can’t be bothered. 

 

“Once Brams upset it’s really hard to get him to calm down.” Garrett says when Martin doesn’t move immediately. It’s a threat and Martin doesn’t need to be told another time. He scurries off to his own table faster than anyone can say anything else. Bram relaxes, but only slightly. He’s still a little stiff. This time he got a lot more worked up, so I’m not really surprised that he’s still angry, but I am a little concerned. I’m a little upset about what just happened, too, but not enough to stay angry throughout the rest of the day. If what Garrett said was true then Bram’s going to need a really big breather before he can get back to normal again.

 

“Do you need a breather?” I ask in a voice that is just meant for him, my eyebrows furrowed together. He looks down at me and smiles very slightly.

 

“I could probably use some fresh air.” He admits, “Are you okay?”

 

I smile at him, because yeah, I really am okay. “Yeah,” I admit, “It was nice to have you guys backing me up. Thanks for that. Do you want me to come with you? We can just sit out by my car.”  I offer. Bram looks like he’s considering it until he check the time.

 

“No,” He says, shaking his head, “The bells about to ring, I don’t want to make you late. I’ll just step out really quickly. Don’t worry about me, I’ll see you after last block.” He says, leaning down to give me a goodbye kiss.

 

When his lips land on my own and not on my cheek, like they normally do, I squeak a little in surprise. Not because he’s kissing me on my lips, we’ve kissed plenty of times before, but because he’s doing it in the middle of the crowded cafeteria. My eyes slide shut nonetheless and his hand comes up to cup my jaw as my fingers tangle themselves into the front of his shirt. He kisses me just a little harder than usual and it’s probably a little too raunchy to be considered school appropriate but in the moment I don’t really care. When he pulls away my lips feel a little swollen and I’m definitely breathless. He gives me one last smile before wishing everyone else farewell and pushing his chair away from the table to stand and walk out of the cafeteria. It isn’t until after he’s left that I realize I watched him go. When I turn my head back to the table everyone is giving me knowing little smirks and my face blooms red.

 

“The sexual tension between you two is  _ unreal _ .” Leah says. If my face can go any more red then it sure as hell does.

 

“Shut up.” I grumble. The table breaks out into a fit of laughter. I sink further down into my seat.

 

Rule Four:  **Jump his bones at a party after a fight because you have no self control.**

 

Garrett has parties spontaneously. Last year it was because his parents decided they needed a little break so they visited the Bahamas. Garrett threw a party. This year it’s because Garrett's father decided to surprise his wife with anniversary tickets to Paris. It’s not even a day later and I’m standing in front of Garrett’s house where a party is already in full swing. There’s no special occasions this time, it’s just a typical high school party, so I’m dressed in a slightly upgraded version of my usual outfit: ripped jeans, converse and a blue hoodie. Leah couldn’t make it because she’s got band practice and Abby insists that she’s had her fair share of high school parties so it’s just me, Nick, Garrett and Bram. Bram, who’s already inside the house. Nicks basically thrumming with excitement and he turns to look at me with a big grin on his lips.

 

“Come on, come on!” He says to hurry me along as we make our way up the porch steps. Apparently I’m still going a little too slow for his liking because he grabs my wrist and practically yanks me into the house. We don’t have to knock because the door is unlocked, so we just step right in. The place is covered with drunk teenagers stumbling about. A large majority of them are in the living room swaying to the beat of the music. Some mainstream pop song I don’t know the name of is playing and Nick immediately gets swept up into the crowd. I don’t mind him abandoning me because my eyes have already locked with Brams and he’s making his way across the floor, two drinks in his hand like he’d been waiting for me.

 

“Fancy meeting you here.” He says once he gets to me, lowering his head so that I can hear without him having to raise his voice. He places a red solo cup in my hand and lays a brief kiss on my lips. I grin at him once he pulls away, and I’m sure it looks completely stupid and love sick but I just can’t help myself. He’s wearing a grey button up that’s got little white floral patterns decorating it, the cuffs of his sleeves are rolled up to his forearms and he’s wearing ripped black jeans with a pair of black vans. He looks really good tonight. I lift the red solo cup to my lips, taking a sip of the bitter beer inside before speaking.

 

“Do you want to dance with me?” I ask because this atmosphere is getting to me. I have the strange urge to move my body to the beat of the music and it’d be so much better if Bram danced with me. Said boy grins at my request, downing the rest of whatever’s in his cup and nodding his head. He grabs my hand and we push our way through the crowd to try and get a decent spot. I actually don’t know how to dance so at first I just stand there, swaying a little awkwardly to the music. Surprisingly enough Bram actually looks like he knows what he’s doing, his entire body moving in time with the beat effortlessly. He has this natural sense of rhythm and just adapts it to the music, his limbs loose and relaxed. The more I drink the less stiff I become until eventually, once my cup is completely empty, I’m leaning almost completely up against Bram with my one of my hands on his arm and his hands on my waist. Another cup of beer is in my hand and I don’t know when or how it got there but it’s basically empty and my body feels warm. I blame it on the fact that we’re all squished in here like sardines.

 

I tilt my chin up to look at Bram, a silly grin on my lips. He grins back down at me, big brown eyes twinkling with amusement.

 

“What?” He asks, and I’m close enough that he doesn’t have to raise his voice over the sound of the music. I shake my head, smiling.

 

“Nothing… just you’re so goddamn gorgeous.” I sigh. He laughs and his cheeks color pink.

 

“You’re drunk.” He says easily, bringing a hand up to brush my hair back and adjust my glasses.

 

“Am I?” I ask, because I don’t  _ feel _ drunk. Just warm. We’ve stopped dancing but no one around us really notices. I wrap my arms around Brams back, pulling myself closer and tilting my chin up. He laughs again and we’re so close that I can feel the little puff of air he lets out brush across my lips.

 

“Yes. Very drunk.” He mumbles fondly, leaning down to answer my silent request, pressing his lips softly against mine. I don’t know how long we stay like that. At one point my hand comes up to cup his jaw, but time is completely lost to me. Each song blends into the next, or maybe it’s the same song still playing, but I can’t really know for sure. When he pulls away it’s only because we’ve been jostled slightly, and even so he doesn’t turn his attention away from me. We stare at each other. We’re content to stay like this, too. 

 

“Oops, s’rry ‘bout that.” A voice slurs next to us. Bram glances away from me and I blink as our little bubble is popped. Standing next to us is a very drunk Martin Addison. He’s got a beer in his hand and he looks kind of smashed, his glazed eyes flickering from Bram over to me. We’ve all got a few drinks in us so the tension doesn’t start right away. Matter of fact, Bram almost ignores him all together and turns his attention back to me, which I’m seriously not complaining about. It really would’ve been fine, but apparent Martins filter completely disappears when he’s drunk.

 

“It’s Simon and Bram!” He says in an almost drowsy voice, stumbling slightly. His beer sloshes over the side of his cup. Bram ignores him. I ignore him. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fin-

 

“My two favorite gays!” 

 

Bram stiffens up. The anger that dances across his face isn’t contained like it would normally be. He turns his eyes away from me to look at Martin who’s swaying drunkenly besides us. It’s  _ not _ fine. I run my finger along Bram’s jaw as it flexes, barely hearing all the shit Martins rambling on about in favor of watching all of this emotion dance across Bram’s face. My brains fuzzy and I can tell everything is really intense right now, but really, how can I just ignore the work of art that is Bram Greenfeld?

 

It only occurs to me that staring is probably not the best course of action when a circle begins to form around us. Circling is not a good thing, in high school language it means people are preparing for a fight. I glance away from Bram and finally latch onto what Martin is saying. He’s got his drink clutched tightly in his left hand as his right points dangerous close to Bram’s face. He’s slurring and stumbling over his words slightly but what he’s saying is received loud and clear.

 

“If… If it wasssn’t for me,” Martin says and Bram detaches himself from me, turning his body fully to face Martin. I’m just slightly behind him and it’s enough that I can’t see the expression he’s wearing on his face, but his body looks coiled and ready to spring. The broad expanse of his back is stiff and his fingers twitch at his sides.

 

“If it wasssn’t for me you two wouldn’t be together!” Martin says, “Youh’d still be emailing each other under thossse pathetic anon...anon..anonymouss names. You should be thanking me!”

 

Martins finger pokes at Bram’s chest. “Goh ahead!” He says. Another poke. “I’m waiting!” And the next poke is more like a shove. “I deserve it for bringing you two togeth-” 

 

It happens really fast but I don’t miss a single second of it because my eyes are blown wide. Bram’s hand forms a fist at his side and before Martins finger can come down to poke at his chest again Bram’s swinging. He clocks Martin clean in the jaw, sending the lanky boy stumbling back, his drink falling from his hands and crashing onto the floor. Bram takes a threatening step forward and Martin struggles to regain his balance, sending a sloppy fist to Bram’s face. It really couldn’t even be considered a good punch because Bram blows right through it, taking the hit before sending another punch to the side of Martin’s face. That hit sends him to the ground and that’s when I realize that I should probably break this up.

 

Bram’s name is bubbling from my lips before I even realize that I’m saying anything and I’ve suddenly started moving forward, my hands closing down around his right arm, pulling him backwards. Garrett is on his left side then, a hand on Bram’s left arm, and he’s saying things like, “Come on, man,” and “He’s not worth it,” and Nick is standing in front of Bram with his hands spread out like he’s worried Brams gonna lunge for Martin any second. Garrett, Nick and I lead Bram away from the scene and to the bathroom without much resistance from him. The anger has faded from his face and he looks almost ashamed. He’s avoiding looking at us, I realize, when he and Nick lock eyes and he hurriedly adverts his gaze. 

 

Once we’re all in the bathroom Nick closes the door, I close the toilet lid and make sure Bram sits down and Garrett fumbles around in the cabinets for the first aid kit. I reach out to take Bram’s hands only to see that they’re shaking. A frown pulls at my lips and I barely notice when Garrett lets out a shriek if victory as he finds the kit.

 

“Can you guys give us a minute?” I ask Nick and Garrett, turning away from Bram to look them. A look of understanding passes over Garrett’s face and he hands me the first aid kit.

 

“Yeah, take all the time you need, man.” He says. Nick looks like he’s about the protest but Garrett shoots him a look and pulls him out of the bathroom before he can. They close the door behind them and I turn my attention back to Bram. I sit down on the edge of the tub. I set the first aid kit down next to me and my hands come out to cup his cheeks.

 

“Bram,” And my voice comes out impossibly soft, “Bram, look at me.” I say. He hesitates before lifting his head. His big brown eyes are glazed with unshed tears and his hands come up to rest on top of mine.

 

“I’m sorry,” He chokes out quickly, “I wasn’t myself back there, I shouldn’t have let that get so out of hand.” And he’s crying now, hot tears streaming down his cheeks. They start to pool at where my hands are on his cheeks.

 

“I let my anger get the best of me and it was stupid. I can’t believe I  _ hit _ him, I’m such a piece of shit for that. I’m so so sorry, Simon.” He blubbers and I quickly shake my head, swiping my thumbs across his cheeks to clear the tears.

 

“No no no, Bram, you’re not a piece of shit. Martin was asking for it.” I reassure him quickly. “You have nothing to be sorry for. If you didn’t hit him then I probably would’ve at one point.” And it’s so true. I’m not mad with Bram for hitting Martin, I’m not even disappointed in him. If he hadn’t hit him then I definitely would’ve at some point. Sooner rather than later, probably. Bram just beat me too it. 

 

He’s hasn’t stopped crying but his hands have stopped shaking so violently. He threads our fingers together and presses them to his lips. The tears dry up after he takes a few shaky breaths and after a moment he gives me a watery smile.

 

“So you’re not mad at me or scared or want to break up or something else along those lines?” He asks and I can’t help the laugh that escapes my lips.

 

“ _ No,  _ Abraham, I am  _ not _ breaking up with you because you punched Martin Addison in the face.” I assure him. The next words come out of my mouth like vomit and I can’t even hope to stop them. “Besides, you were like, defending my honor. It was really hot.” 

 

My face goes completely red at the words and Bram quietly lifts an eyebrow at me. He’s a little cautious when he answers, like he’s giving me the chance to back away if I want to. 

 

“You thought…” He pauses and I can tell he’s choosing his words carefully, “You think that was hot?” He asks. I advert my eyes because I literally cannot look at him as I admit this, but I’ve come to terms with the fact that I _have_ to say it.

 

“Yeah… It was really hot. You get this  _ look _ on your face when you’re angry. Your face goes all blank and you  _ always  _ square your shoulders like you’re preparing for a fight. And your jaw flexes. When you talk you sound perfectly composed and it’s kind of like the calm before the storm.” I say and I can tell he’s looking at me but I don’t have to guts to meet his eyes. 

 

“You like it when I’m angry?” He asks bluntly, “It turns you on is what you’re trying to say, right?” He asks. My face goes another shade of red and I focus on our intertwined fingers.

 

“It’s not like I want you to go around being angry all the time or something.” I say quickly, “But on the rare occasion that you  _ do  _ get mad… yes, it turns me on.” I blurt out. And now he’s quiet and I can feel myself start to ramble because I’ve made this weird, haven’t I?

 

“Just normally you have so much control over what you do and how you do it, and that’s hot too, don’t get me wrong, but there’s just something about you completely losing it that gets to me. Like that time in the cafeteria after you had to leave to calm yourself down. Usually you’re so careful about where and how you kiss me but in that moment it was like you just said ‘fuck it’ and you kissed me so long and hard that I thought I was going to pass out, but in a good way. And I- What? Bram stop looking at me like that.” 

 

We lock eyes and Bram’s fighting a smile off of his face. My cheeks are already burning and they can’t get any darker than they already are but it definitely  _ feels _ like they do.  

 

“You are possibly the most endearing person I’ve ever met, Simon Spier.” Bram says softly. He doesn’t give me the chance to respond because he’s leaning forward to press our lips together. My eyes flutter shut. It’s one of those kisses that make your knees weak and your heart melt. It’s slow and soft and careful, like we’re planning our next move before we act on it. 

 

I tilt my head and the kiss deepens, my hands coming to tangle in the hair at the base of his neck. He leans forward, pressing harder, tongue swiping over my bottom lip. Just like that the atmosphere changes from softly innocent to something hard and desperate, and it’s much like how he kissed me that day in the cafeteria. His hand is on the back of my neck as his tongue slips into my mouth and I make a small noise in the back of my throat. I couldn’t tell you what the hell it was but he hums in response so it must not be that bad. A hand slides down the curve of my back and I didn’t realize how big his hands were until just now. I, by no means, have small hands, Bram’s are just… huge. 

 

My hands slide down the back of his neck and my chest is burning because I need the toxic gas that is oxygen but I don’t want to move away. Bram does, though, because he’s clearly the responsable one between us, and I gasp like a goldfish to bring air into my lungs. The loud pumping base of the music has been lost to me for a while now. The only thing I can hear is the pounding of my heart and the only thing I can  _ feel  _ is Bram. He presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth, my cheek, and then to the space where my jaw meets my neck. I tilt my head up, baring my neck for him, and he takes the invitation, dragging his lips and tongue across my skin. I make another noise in the back of my throat. Bram doesn’t respond this time but I figure his mouth is kind of occupied. Eventually he trails backup and plants a brief kiss to my lips before leaning back to look at me. 

 

His eyes are half lidded and his lips are wet and swollen, his curly hair looking disheveled from where I was running my fingers through it. He’s got this mischievous little smirk on his lips and it’s doing weird things to my body. Weird, but not unpleasant. 

 

“We should probably leave this for another time.” He says and Jesus Christ I think I might have a heart attack right there. His voice is deep, husky and a little rough, his thumb brushing against my bottom lip as he stares at me. 

 

“Stop pouting.” He says with a laugh. I frown even more, because I am  _ not  _ pouting.

 

“I’m not.” I defend, pulling him to his feet as I stand. “I just don’t  _ want  _ to leave this for another time.” I say, pushing up against him. He’s hard, I can feel it through his jeans, and that’s comforting and exciting because I am, too. Bram bites his lip, but he still has the gaul to look amused.

 

“We’re in a party full of teenagers.  _ Drunk  _ teenagers.” He says, tilting my chin up. “And you can’t keep quiet.” My face flushes at that because he’s not wrong. 

 

“I don’t have any condoms or lube on me and I can tell you’re craving something more than my mouth can do right now.” He kisses the corner of my mouth. 

 

“And you’re not exactly sober.” He mumbles the last reason in my ear and even though he’s turning me down right now I shiver in response. 

 

“Tomorrow.” Bram promises. “Tomorrow I’ll give you what you want.”

 

And, like he said, I’m not exactly sober right now, but I’ll definitely hold him to that.

 

**Warning: There is no guarantee that these rules will actually work on your boyfriend.** **_Do not_ ** **try this at home… well, unless your boyfriend is Bram Greenfeld. You should** **_definitely_ ** **follow these rules if you’re blessed enough to be with him. Full disclosure: it** **_will_ ** **get you laid and it’s guaranteed that you’ll be sore in the morning.**


End file.
